answer, and yet you dared to persist. Let this be a lesson to all who think to question the gods' wisdom."
No one rushed to the dragon's defense, and Layel smiled slowly. A more welcome sight he had never encountered. Except for Delilah...last night...underneath you, panting...craving your mouth... With a muttered curse, he blackened his mind.
"We are giving you a few more hours. Use it to strategize with your team. Tonight," the god continued, as if Brand's interruption had not occurred, "the first competition will take place. You'll need every ounce of strength you possess to survive. Because the challenge will be difficult, the winning team will be greatly rewarded. And do not think to rebel, keeping your team from victory. The losing team shall appear before me, and, as mentioned before, the weakest contender will be executed.
"Go now. Do whatever you must to strengthen yourselves and prepare for the challenge to come. Do not disappoint me." The last seemed to bullet straight to Layel.
He opened his mouth to say something - what, he didn't know - but a second later, the sand stilled, collapsed, the being clearly gone.
Then a dark cloud assaulted Layel, a single word whispering into his ears: Gauntlet. His eyes burned, some of the granules having worked their way under his lids. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Gauntlet? Confused, he held his breath until the cloud passed. It swept over several other creatures, and they coughed. But they did not act as if they'd heard a voice.
Finally Brand ceased writhing and dragged himself to his feet with a dark scowl at Layel. Everyone else glanced around the island, as if unsure of what to do next.
"This is ridiculous."
"I'm not pairing with a demon."
"Or a vampire."
Layel blocked their chatter. Two teams. Competing against each other. Someone from the losing team would die. Tonight. Delilah? His fingers curled, nails cutting. Don't think about her. His focus settled once again on his team. How was he supposed to play nice with a dragon? A demon? He would rather die.
You just might.
He sighed. Gauntlet. Was that to be their challenge? Or was it a trick? He would soon find out, he supposed.
ZANE STALKED from the beach, through the trees and away from the harsh morning light and the creatures he despised. If he had stayed, the already-thin strand he held on his control would have snapped.
Bad things happened when he snapped.
But he could think of nothing to calm himself. The feelings the Amazon Nola wrought in him were too confusing, too similiar to what another female had once made him experience. Feelings that had changed him - and not for the better. More than that, he was hungry. Layel had ordered him not to kill last night, and he hadn't. Which meant he hadn't eaten, either.
Zane only drank from creatures he killed. That way, expressions of fear and pleas for mercy would not haunt him. And yet, those living creatures had begun to look tasty.
Also, taking a living being meant enduring hands and gazes on his body. He shuddered.
Last night he'd meant to feast on the Amazon, for she smelled sweeter than anyone he'd ever encountered. Even Cassandra, the woman he'd bargained away years of his life to save - the woman who'd then wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, he'd decided to destroy Nola even before the demons.
But she had bested him.
He'd gone in for that first slash of her throat, but she had anticipated his move and had struck first. Only, she hadn't hurt him. She had trussed him up like an animal. To do so, she had touched him. She had looked at him. And he had not wanted to run, hide, even die as he usually did when touched and gazed upon.
Actually, he'd wanted her to do both again.
What strange power did these Amazons wield? The blue-haired one had Layel tied in knots. Zane had never seen the king so confused. Soft, even. Layel lived and breathed death. Revenge. Two goals Zane admired. Yet neither of them had been able to hurt those women. Worse, both men now seemed to crave them.
Unacceptable.
Zane had avoided females since his release from the demon palace. Sex was not something he needed to survive, wasn't even something he wanted anymore, therefore he did not indulge. Ever. Even a hasty coupling gave a female power over a man.
No one would consume his thoughts; no one would dictate his body's feelings. Too many times over the years he'd had